The Young & The Hopeless
by Chuck's Prophet
Summary: College!AU. Cas is a college freshman, traipsing through life as best as he can while being victim bullying. A few months into his stay at Stanford he meets Sam, an aspiring lawyer who protects him from the evil entities in his life. Sastiel. Rated T for mild violence, some adult themes, language and kissing.
1. Part I: The Young & The Hopeless

**The Young & The Hopeless**

* * *

**A/N:** Both titles are from two amazing bands: _Good Charlotte_ and _A Day to Remember,_ respectively.

As always, for my Benny.

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Castiel Novak didn't like to be proved wrong. His professors knew it, his peers knew it, but for one reason or another—as he sifted through what had to have been the umpteenth million Q&A at this ungodly hour of the night—his textbooks hadn't gotten the memorandum. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Appraising the material didn't do any good. The probability of finding the square root of _x_ was about as slim as his chances were of finding the winning lotto tickets in a McDonald's bathroom.

He leaned back in his crappy chair, drawing an exasperated sigh. It wasn't like he didn't like college. He wanted a decent education and a decent paying job just like anyone else, but more importantly, wanted the worst years of his life to be over. High school was basically sifting through voluntary hellfire eight hours a day with the beatings and the bruises and the low-blows and just when he thought he was one of the fortunate souls to decamp from it all, he arrived at Stanford University.

At least in high school he only had to outrun his enemies for a few hours at a time. At a university, a student has to _pay _to coexist full-time in the same breathing space as these twenty-somethings on his ass like clockwork. For a while he got by with concealing the more visible bruises with foundation—after all, he _was_ getting picked on already for his "flaming" sexuality, so what was the harm he wasn't already enduring in using makeup?—but when the bruises turned into scars and his pockets were getting tight, he stopped using makeup altogether. He thought several times about dropping out of college, but he couldn't disappoint his brother Samandriel. He was barely getting by in grade school, and since his parents' untimely deaths, he could use a male role model. So a few beatings were hardly a pinch and time elapsed most of his wounds anyway by the time that he got to see him and his sister Anna in Minnesota.

Then, one rather fateful day, he met a man that changed his perspective on humanity altogether. With their soaring six-foot statures and relative fetish for flannel, it was hard not to know the Winchester brothers. The elder, Dean, was a butch senior and wore a gilded talisman around his neck. He wasn't exactly known for his intellect inside of the classroom, but outside he was a prodigy in martial arts. The latter brother, Sam, was just the opposite. He didn't wear a fancy necklace and he wasn't as masculine as his shorter brother but he was very much involved in school—almost as much as he was in the fight that went down with him Benny Lafitte, Castiel's prime persecutor. Benny was one of Dean's good friends so he had an easier time calming him down than actually taking a swing at him. Sam, however, despised the guy almost as much as Castiel and had hardly any hesitation clocking him in the face and shoving him out of the way of his prisoner.

That day, Sam Winchester not only saved his life, but stole his heart. Nonetheless, like the bruises and the scars, he was better at concealing his emotions than confronting them head-on. Following the incident, he spent more time around Sam than his own flesh and blood. Their agendas weren't too different from each other's, so this gave Castiel time to get to know Sam over various lunches, dinners, and the occasional study date for when he needed tutoring. Sam lived on the opposite end of the universe in nicer housing while Cas (that's what Sam started calling him after the first week they spent together so he adopted the name) previously resided in a dormitory on the corner of Bumfuck Central. Despite the atrocious distance between them, when these study dates became more common (and when Sam would come home after Psych more often to Cas sleeping on his couch than his dog Bones), Sam asked Cas to move in. He could still remember the night that Sam had done so. Cas was glowing with euphoria as he wrapped the taller man in a hug and snored just as enthusiastically when he fell asleep on his shoulder. Sam laughed and carried him to his spare bedroom as quietly as he could without disturbing the man's much-needed slumber.

The beatings stopped shortly after the move-in. Sam wasn't Chuck Norris, but hell if he wasn't intimidating at six-foot four and a jawline that could cut through titanium (not like Cas ever dreamt about the thought…). Most people steered clear of his presence just because they were under the impression that he was a monster, but the freshman new better. Sam was the most compassionate person he's ever come to know and he stuck out his own for the ones he loved. Sam was kind and Sam was gentle but if his friends were ever put in danger, Sam was your worst nightmare.

"_Shit!_" he cursed as he flung the thousand-pound book at the wall. He heard the soft _click _of the front door, but paid no mind. He buried his face in his hands. Cas tried to focus on the wallowing sound that his roommate's shoes made on the tile as he came up behind him.

"Long day?" he asked, setting something down on the table next to him.

He forcibly lifted his head and ran his hands through his already tousled hair. "No, I just have this restless arm syndrome that causes me to involuntarily throw things I despise at nearby walls."

"Unless the wall was talking shit first, I _think _that could just be a symptom of bipolar," Sam said with a light chuckle. Cas smiled. Even when he was feeling down, the younger Winchester had this way of shedding some light on his gloomy features.

He tucked a long chocolate strand behind his ear and leaned over Cas, one hand propped on the table. The younger boy inched his hand away coyly just as Sam inclined his head. Luckily, he wasn't close enough to hear Cas's heart hammering in his chest or the excess salivate sliding down his throat rather violently when he choked back the smell of Sam's aromatic aftershave. "Alright, if _x_ is in the house and it's positive to _y, _the arc will always be above the graph. If _x_ is in the house and negative to _y_—"

"—then the graph arcs below the _y_ axis." _Holy shit, I just spoke math. I didn't even need the textbook. _"So the problem isn't about _finding x _it's about finding the coordinates on the graph."

Sam smiled and used his other hand to give him a congratulatory pat on his shoulder. "You got it." Even though Sam was a year above his grade and didn't have math in his curriculum this year, he had an impressive record for retaining information. In fact, he already took his LSAT's and scored a 174, so most of the time, when he wasn't going to seminars or hanging with Cas, he was being recruited for job interviews and part-time internships at some of the most prestigious law firms in Northern California.

"What's in the bag?" Cas asked, peering over his textbooks to get a better view. Cas's eyes, despite the dark stacks hanging heavy underneath, widened when Sam pulled out an endless supply of unwrapped Crowley burgers and potato salad.

"I kind of thought I would find you sitting here running on week-old coffee fumes. I have absolutely nothing planned for tomorrow, so tonight we're going to binge on red meat and potatoes until your math starts looking more like words and less like doodles."

Cas chuckled lightly, "What would I do without you?"

"Well you wouldn't be spoiled with all of this food, for one," he said, as-a-matter-of-factly.

"Shut up and start teaching, Winchester."

The sophomore grinned ear-to-ear at the comment. He picked up Cas's pencil and slid his chair closer. For the remainder of the night—_or was it morning?_—Castiel wasn't sure if he had spent more time studying logarithmic functions or how Sam Winchester was the most beautiful human being he had ever come to know.


	2. Part II: All Signs Point to Stanford

O.o

The following morning Cas stirred in his sleep to a large hand wrapping around his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open to a bleary figure looming over him. He stumbled for his glasses dangling off the edge of his dresser and put them on only to be confronted by a shirtless Sam. He sat up straighter, digging his heels into the back of his sheets. It was bad enough with morning wood; add Sam Winchester's naked chest and he wouldn't have the strength to move.

"Whoa there, don't get an anxiety attack. We haven't even gotten out of the house yet."

Cas rubbed his eyes underneath his frames and blinked a few times. "Where are we going?"

"C'mon, Cas, it's your first day off in centuries and you're telling me you haven't thought about what you're going to do with it?" Sam sat perpendicular to him, letting his hands fall in his lap. Cas tried not to focus on how he was rubbing in-between his thighs. "We could go to the movies, walk around town; go to the beach. We could even dine like kings at some outrageously expensive restaurant if you wanted. The world is our oyster."

"If the world was my oyster it would have let me sleep past noon."

"I said the world was _our_ oyster, Cas," the taller man replied, tossing a stray pillow at him. "Besides, when was the last time you did something for yourself?"

_I do _not_ want to rejoin on that. _"You mentioned food?"

Sam's lips perked up into a smile, revealing all of his teeth. "That's my boy!" he exclaimed, patting his leg affectionately before hopping off of the bed. Cas fumbled around for something more decent than a pair of boxers and a grey t-shirt and prepared for a day out on the town.

O.o

"What about this place?" Cas tossed his head above him to a big red **Aéropostale** sign. Prior to approaching the double-pane store ornamented with summer swimwear, the two traipsed around town, lugging around bags of clothes, jewelry, and whatever the hell else Sam could afford with his dad's credit card. (Law was the family business.) Lo and behold, the only bag that wasn't tossed carelessly over his broad shoulders was one branded with the Aéropostale emblem. The remarkably shorter man couldn't be too sure if Sam's intentions were pure in this circumstance. Two incredibly virile men stood on either side of the entrance in swim trunks that could easily be mistaken for lingerie.

"I-I don't know," he stammered, glancing from Sam to each men. Sam knew that Cas was gay but never questioned or pushed him into anything that he didn't want to do, but for one reason or another, it was obvious the younger Winchester was feeling more audacious today.

Sam was smiling so hard Cas thought that his dimples would suck him into another dimension. "Come on, Cas, they won't bite."

"I don't know about that, honey," one of the models drawled to Cas. He licked his lips delectably. "You could just end up getting me fired."

Castiel's face turned a profuse scarlet. Sam stifled a deep chuckle and pushed Cas's jello legs into the store. The younger man's head was still dizzy from the unlikely confrontation with the attractive specimen outside. He hadn't even noticed that Sam had him in front of the swimwear rack, holding him firmly in place so that he didn't trip over ecstasy.

"Have fun," he said, patting him on the shoulder and trekking off in the opposite direction.

"Wait, where are you going?" he managed through clenched teeth.

Sam turned around, laughing at the stoic man. "I'm going to board the U.S.S. Enterprise. I'm going to do some shopping, Cas. But uh, check in with me when you find the right swimsuit."

"Sam it's November." _And more importantly, the question that I should be asking is why you want to look at me half naked in the first place?_

"Thanks for the reminder. I have to pick up a birthday present for Dean. You think he'll dig Batman underwear?"

Cas threw his head back incredulously, "Definitely not."

"Sweet," Sam said, tossing him a wink before meandering off into the many isles of clothes, leaving Cas to stand awkwardly amid twenty different types of leisurewear. Something was definitely up with Sam. He wasn't usually this giddy…unless he'd been offered a full-time position somewhere; somewhere far from Stanford city lines. That would explain the shopping, the excessive smiling, the eagerness to get out of the dorm… he's preparing to say goodbye. Cas's stomach did a somersault. The mere thought of the Winchester leaving him behind for some big city offer put a wrench in his heart. He wanted Sam to be happy—really, more than anything after what happened to his mom and how hard he's worked to build a life of his own without relying too heavily on daddy's money—but he always imagined that they were going to be best friends forever. Potentially more, but that notion slipped through the cracks a few weeks ago.

He pushed his self-centered thoughts behind him and eventually settled for a swimsuit on the lowest rack. Like his eyes, a deep sapphire that touched down just barely enough to cover his upper thighs. Sam obviously promoted the choice, throwing an enthusiastic thumb up and turned away before Cas could see the obvious red coating his cheeks. Luckily, the freshman was just as discomfited and quickly changed into his prior clothes to check out the items (Batman undies included).

After a few minutes of silent walking, the taller man turned to Cas, concern clouding his hard features. "Cas, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm peachy. Why?"

Sam shrugged, switching one ginormous bag in his other less occupied hand. "I don't know. You just seem distracted."

"Of course I'm distracted; there are a lot of stores to look at," Cas said flatly.

"That's not what I mean."

Cas scoffed indignantly. "Look, I appreciate you taking me out today, but it's not going to make me feel better. In fact, it only makes me feel worse that you're spending all of this money on some guy that you'll never bother seeing again."

"Cas, I—" He looked pained. He physically looked like he got punched in the face. Before Sam could conjure a proper response, a hand was tugging him hard in the opposite direction. "Dean? What the hell are you—?" The older brother cut him off, pressing him even harder against a nearby wall out of vision from the crowd, cupping his hand over his mouth.

He glanced around him before uttering anything. "Look, I hate to do this but my ass is on the line for you right now."

"Why are you whispering?" Sam's words degenerated on his fingers.

Dean let go and spoke a little softer when he noted passing bystanders behind him. "Benny's coming."

_"What?" _the sophomore hissed heatedly. "How the hell did he find us?"

"I hate to break it to you, Sammy, but we don't have time to ponder the anonymities of the universe. I don't know how he finds this stuff out."

Sam's mouth dropped. "Wait—you didn't—?"

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed quietly, "You don't think I want you to live a long gay life with hipster central over there?"

"Alright, _alright_," Sam said. "What are we supposed to do?"

Dean shook his head, biting on his lower lip anxiously. "I don't know, he could be here any—" The senior was cut off by an ear-shattering howl and a loud _thud_ on the pavement_. _Sam nearly hit the ground running, bags and all, trampling over the narrow cracks in the cement. Sure enough, Benny was standing there, looming over an abdomen-clutching Cas like the Hoover Tower. He had a big, sloppy grin plastered on his face. Cas's was already flushed of its color, minus a big rubicund splotch just above his chin.

"C'mon, Benny, it doesn't have to be like this, man," Dean said, stepping in front of a startled Sam. "He's just a kid."

Benny exploded into a fit of laughter. He arranged the straps of his suspenders back in place. "Yeah, he's a _faggot_ kid, alright."

Sam was stepping in front of Benny now, pushing him farther off of the pavement with each sentence. Dean was already behind his brother, prepared to take the fall. "Now you listen to me, you redneck son of a bitch. You and your backwoods friends will not come anywhere near my best friend. If I so much as see your face within a square mile, I will beat you with an inch of your life and then some. You hear?"

Dean placed a cautionary hand over his brother's shoulder. Benny was already stumbling into the streets in terror, causing quite a commotion with a couple of inquisitive onlookers. Obviously he wasn't expecting his best friend's rhinoceros brother to be stampeding around town when he found Cas.

"Y-yeah, I-I'm just gonna—" Before he could finish his weak sentence, he stumbled over a rock and landed on his backside into the black gravel. He picked himself up diffidently and scrambled for the opposite end of street, out of sight.

Dean was already helping Cas to his feet, one arm wrapped around his waist. Sam took his other side, careful not to brush his arm across his throbbing cheek when he slipped it around his shoulders. Cas sank into the two men's weight, almost going completely boneless had he not had the support of the brothers. Cas may have been strong in the head, but his body was about as frail as a toothpick when he was beaten down.

"Some friends you have," he muttered to Dean, who just wrote it off along with the events from five seconds ago. On another hand, Cas couldn't be too harsh on him. Dean wasn't the one who gave him the weekly bruises on face and he _did _stand up for him, both physically and literally.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked tentively, once Cas found stability. Sam put his hand lightly around his waist to balance him just in case and brushed his thumb across the abrasion on his face.

"I've had worse," was all he said. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and eyed him from sapphire to sapphire, to his lips, and back.

Dean coughed vigorously, causing the people around him to scatter in different directions and the two men to break from their gazes on one another. "So, uh, are you two still on for dinner tonight?" he said, swinging his head to the establishment in front of them. Sam shot him a heated look. The older brother tried correcting his sentence before realizing that he had already screwed things up indefinitely.

"Dinner?" Cas shot his head to the place. "We had reservations?"

Sam mouthed uncouth words to his sibling. Dean shrugged and threw his hands up. "Well, we _did_. It was going to be a surprise."

"What was?"

Sam shifted nervously, retracting his hand from Cas's face. "I was, uh—I was going to ask you out on a date like a proper gentleman but I kinda got nervous."Cas's lips parted slightly, but he didn't utter a word. He just stood there like a stiff, eyes fixed on the ground beneath him. "Uh, Cas, I encourage you to say something before I puke here."

"Sorry," the shorter man said, shaking his head to dispel his musings. "It's just—I thought that you were dragging me around town to make up for lost time. I thought you were leaving Stanford for a job offer. You know, out with the old in with the new?"

Sam's eyes widened with the same compassion that carved its way into the no-major boy's heart. From day one the sophomore was a candid guy and Cas could tell that it deeply pained him that he sent him a false elucidation when all he was trying to do was return him with the same unrequited compassion and possibly, if the date went well, a small gesture to show him how compassionate he truly was.

"_Cas_…" He said is name like he had been the one punched in the gut. "Even if I did get a really awesome offer, I would tell you. But don't think for a second that I would leave you." He reached for his hand hanging nimbly at his side and cupped his larger one around. "We've built a life together here. I wouldn't trade it for some corporate office all the way out in bumfuck Texas. I need you, and I—" He faltered on the next words. Cas helped him by lifting up to press his lips to his. Sam leaned into the embrace, interlacing his fingers with Cas's and slipping his other hand into his dark brown ringlets.

He pulled back when he realized that his brother was staring at them the entire time with strange curiosity flecked in his emerald eyes. Sam narrowed his own pensive eyes and Dean got the message, clearing his throat in attempt to alleviate the awkward tension.

"I've gotta go—over there," he said, galloping in the direction from whence his friend exited from. Sam would have laughed had he not been preoccupied with a mouth desperate to be kissed.

"You know, I'd love to see you in those swim shorts again," the taller man said against his lips. "I—uh, I actually bought a Superman speedo for myself, if you wanted to see it."

And for once in his life, Cas didn't want to be proved wrong.


End file.
